by Olivia Drake
Blast it. He was accustomed to people heeding his words, not scorning him as if he were of no consequence.
Struck by an awareness of his own arrogance, he tried to see matters from Natalie’s perspective. She had survived a bloody massacre, taken charge of an orphaned child, crossed an ocean to a despised foreign land in order to deliver Leo to his family, only to find herself caught in a web of hostility where her very character and integrity were attacked.
Worse, she’d given the gift of her trust to Hadrian, and he had repaid her with what she perceived to be a betrayal.
Looking at the situation in that light made him feel like a knave, so he strove for a more conciliatory tone. “Forgive me, I oughtn’t have been so presumptuous. What I meant was that Leo would be drenched if you were to depart in the rain. He might even fall ill. Please understand that I only wish to do what’s best for him.” And for Natalie, too, though he didn’t dare say so in her present state of indignation.
His apology appeared to smooth her bristles to a degree. Her tense expression relaxed somewhat. “What’s best for Leo is to leave this house where he isn’t wanted.”
“You’re absolutely right. He needs to be in a place where he’s welcome.” When Hadrian reached out to grasp her hand, he was relieved that she didn’t flinch from him. Warmth flowed up his arm and set his pulse to racing. He lightly stroked his thumb over the backs of her soft fingers, marveling that such daintiness could belong to such a strong, valiant woman. “Will you grant me a few minutes of your time to discuss this? Please.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she regarded him searchingly. “All right, then. But don’t think I’m agreeing to anything else.”
It was a victory, albeit a grudgingly given one. He shifted his hand to the small of her back, guiding her into a dimly lit salon off the entrance hall. As the room was seldom used, the family preferring the more modern drawing room upstairs, the furnishings here were a collection of musty medieval pieces, with tapestries on the stone walls and a heraldic shield above the oversized hearth.
He left the door open a crack for propriety’s sake. The chill in the air made him consider lighting a fire, but Natalie was already looking skittish enough to bolt at any delay.
She stepped away from him, taking up a stance by a carved, thronelike chair. “Now, kindly explain why I shouldn’t go straight back to America and spare Leo the pain of knowing that his grandfather detests his very existence.”
She folded her arms in a defiant pose that drew Hadrian’s attention to her bosom. His mind served up the vivid memory of caressing the rose-petal skin of her breasts, feeling the tip pucker into a bud under the laving of his tongue, hearing her moan with pleasure. He banished the image at once. As delectable as she might be, now was not the time for distractions. His most pressing goal was to convince her to accompany him to London.
Fixing his attention on her face, he said, “Audrey asked you to bring Leo to England for a reason. She wanted her son to go to the best schools, to have all the advantages of her family’s status. And since she and I were like siblings, I’d like to think that she wanted him to know me, as well.”
Natalie arched an eyebrow. “Why should I believe anything you say? You still have doubts about Leo’s identity.”
“Doubts?” He shook his head emphatically. “No, I don’t. Not in the least. I’m confident the investigator will deliver the proof Godwin needs. Perhaps it seemed otherwise just now in the study, but only because I wanted an excuse to remove Leo from this house.”
Her gaze skeptical, she curled her fingers around the back of the chair. “It didn’t appear to me that the earl needed much of an excuse at all. He was looking for any reason to banish Leo.”
“He can be a stubborn old bird. It’s still a bruise to his pride that Audrey defied him and left England. But he’ll come around eventually. Let him conduct his little investigation. If we take Leo to London for a few months, it will give Godwin time to adjust to the notion of having a grandson.”
“Months! I was intending to depart for America within a week or two.”
Gazing at the vibrant beauty of her face, Hadrian felt the grip of alarm. She couldn’t leave England. Not when he had just found her. Now he understood why he’d taken such a detached, logical approach to marriage; he had never met any woman quite like Natalie. In the gray dullness of the rainy day, she had expressive features and an adorable sparkle that lit up the room. Her candid manner and sharp wit made her utterly unlike the artificial beauties of the ton.
But the strength of his attachment to her was entirely too new. It would take time to determine if they belonged in each other’s lives forever. And time was the one thing he didn’t have—unless he could coax her to go to London.
He paced back and forth to contain his restless need for her. “You’ve been here for barely a week. It’s far too soon to give up on your vow.”
“If Leo isn’t wanted here, then there’s no point in delaying.”
“But he is wanted. By me.” It was true, Hadrian realized with a pang. He liked the brat, though he’d seldom before heeded young children, aside from his nephew. “I’m more than happy to provide Audrey’s son with a home. But he needs you here with him, too, at least for a while. Is there a pressing reason why you must go back at once?”
“Yes. I wish to open a school in Philadelphia for the autumn session. There are so many things that need to be done, finding a building to rent, hiring teachers, purchasing supplies, advertising for students.”
The keen glow in her eyes struck Hadrian. This was a wrinkle he hadn’t expected, her determination to educate children. She had firm plans for her future that didn’t involve him. “Some of those tasks could be accomplished from afar. An estate agent could locate a suitable place on your behalf. With your father having been a prominent man, surely you have connections.”
“Perhaps.” She glanced away, her gaze thoughtful, before she returned her wary attention to him. “But going to London won’t solve the issue of Lord Godwin’s coldness. He’s made no attempt whatsoever to forge a bond with his grandson. Not once in the past week has he asked to see Leo. Instead, I was to keep him hidden in the nursery like a dirty little secret. If the earl stubbornly refuses to believe Leo is Audrey’s son, then we’d be better off returning to America where I can raise him myself.”
“I’m sure you’d be an excellent mother to him,” Hadrian said in all sincerity. “However, allow me to point out that Godwin may not be quite the ogre he seems. He merely has a strict view that young children should tend to their lessons out of sight of adults. As a boy, I myself had few dealings with him until adolescence, when he began to take me riding over the estate for training in land management, dealing with tenants, methods of animal husbandry, and the like.”
Natalie frowned, her gaze penetrating. “So you’re saying that when you were a fatherless little boy like Leo, the earl paid no attention to you, either?”
The appalled note in her voice startled him. “I wasn’t neglected,” he hastened to say. “Before I went off to Eton, there were nursemaids and governesses and tutors, of course. And I reported to the earl once a week so that he could evaluate the progress of my studies.”
“That’s hardly a stirring endorsement! What a dreadful way for a boy to grow up. All children need love and attention. Not just from servants, but from their parents, their family. Boys in particular need a father figure.”
Feeling unaccountably defensive, Hadrian prowled to the window to gaze out at the rainswept hills. He had both respected and feared his guardian, as was proper. It was simply the way that upper-class children were raised.
Yet somehow, Natalie’s critical assessment had resurrected a host of buried memories from his boyhood. He recalled falling down and skinning his knee, and being berated for running by a stern governess. Whenever he was ill, a succession of nameless maidservants had tended to him. At least for a time there had been Audrey’s mother, the first countess, who had c
ome each night to press a kiss to his cheek. He’d been heartbroken at seven when she’d died since he’d seldom been allowed to visit his own mother.
A gust of wind tossed a flurry of raindrops against windowpanes, bringing him back to the present and reminding him that he hadn’t responded to Natalie. He turned back around. “Perhaps you just need time to accustom yourself to our English ways. Gentlemen seldom have much to do with the rearing of children.”
“Fiddlesticks. My father raised me after my mother died at my birth. Although I had a governess, Papa made sure he and I spent time together every day, playing games and telling stories, discussing current events. I never once doubted that he loved me—and he certainly was well versed in English ways from having grown up here.”
Hadrian seized the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. “Ah, yes, the Lincolnshire Fanshawes. Why did you never mention that you had family in England?”
“I never thought it important,” she countered with a shrug. “But perhaps you think my father’s birth makes me an unsuitable guardian for Leo.”
“Don’t make assumptions. I’m merely interested … as a friend.” In so many ways, she was a tantalizing mystery to him. There were depths to her that he suspected would take a lifetime to fathom. But it was too soon to voice his strong feelings when he couldn’t quite define them himself.
Natalie studied him a moment. With all the grace of a medieval queen assuming her throne, she seated herself in the chair with its high carved back and lifted her hand in a languid wave. “Do sit down, Duke, and I’ll be happy to fill you in on the more titillating aspects of my family history.”
Hadrian obligingly took the chair opposite hers. Leaning back, he stretched out his legs and let his eyes feast on the sight of her lovely features, caressed by the soft rainy light. “I’m listening.”
“As you know, my father was the baseborn son of a baronet, Sir Basil Fanshawe. Apparently, Sir Basil was an infamous rake in his prime, and one of his many affairs was with an opera singer. When she conceived his child, he supported her financially, though he didn’t wed her, of course. Like all English aristocrats, he chose a well-bred lady to be his wife.”
Hadrian didn’t want her believing that was always true. “Commoners have married into the nobility from time to time.”
“Perhaps in rare instances when the woman is an heiress, but that wasn’t the case here. According to Papa, his mother—my grandmother—left him as a swaddling babe with Sir Basil. She was heading off on a European opera tour, you see. My grandmother later married an Italian conte and became a contessa, only to die of a fever shortly thereafter, poor soul.”
“You don’t resent her for abandoning your father?”
Natalie sighed. “Singing was her passion. And I like to believe she wanted a more permanent life for her son than constantly moving from city to city like a vagabond. I give credit to the baronet, too, who tried to do right by my father. Though Sir Basil’s personal affairs were in a shambles, he scraped up the funds to educate Papa at Eton and Cambridge. But Papa came to realize that his bastardy was a liability here in England. Though he was raised a gentleman, he was barred from many of the best homes.”
That explained quite a lot to Hadrian about her dismal view of the aristocracy. “So he emigrated to America.”
She nodded. “As a young man, Papa went in search of a place where he would be judged not on the blueness of his blood, but on the worth of his character. He embraced liberty with great enthusiasm and became a citizen as swiftly as possible.” A challenging smile lit her face as if she relished the story and hoped to shock him with it. “There, Mr. Duke, now you know my shady past. I’m sure it’s quite a bit more risqué than your own.”
Hadrian found himself smiling back. “Actually, I’ve a few rebels and miscreants among my ducal ancestors, a smattering of commoners, as well. I’ll tell you about them sometime. But getting back to your father, it seems he made a great success of himself.”
“Yes, Papa had a knack for business and land management, and was so well spoken that he could sell a swamp as arable farmland. Not that he ever did so. He was scrupulously honest in his dealings, which is why we were comfortable but never wealthy. Eventually, he was persuaded to become a senator by friends in the state legislature.”
“A tribute to the value of an English gentleman’s education,” Hadrian couldn’t resist saying.
“I certainly can’t fault your schools here,” she agreed. “Yet he also had a somewhat chaotic upbringing, with Sir Basil forever with his pockets to let, from all his gambling debts. His other relatives were much the same. I suppose you could say that Papa was the only ambitious, hardworking one in a dynasty of wastrels. You’ve heard of the black sheep of the family? He used to chuckle that he was the one white sheep in a family of black sheep.”
Hadrian found the tale enlightening. Natalie might speak flippantly, but the fact remained that bloodlines meant a great deal to the ton. Even a tainted genteel ancestry was considered superior to a common one. He himself had been brought up to believe that to be true.
But ever since their fateful meeting during the ice storm, he’d felt a shift inside himself, a desire to challenge long-held convictions. He wasn’t yet certain where it would all lead. However, he did know that with the proper patronage, a striking beauty like Natalie would take society by storm.
If, that is, he could convince her to set aside her preconceptions of the aristocracy. And if he could persuade her that she would be happier with him than opening a school in America.
“Did your father keep in contact with Sir Basil?”
“Yes, they did correspond somewhat erratically. Papa had a half brother and half sister, too, though they’re gone now. After my father’s death, Sir Basil wrote to offer me a home with him and his two other grandchildren, my cousins. It was kind of him, but I declined, of course.”
Of course. She didn’t wish to live in England, nor did she care a fig for rank. It would be a challenge to change her mind, but Hadrian craved the chance to earn her respect. “Perhaps Sir Basil will be in London for the season,” he said. “Will you call on him there?”
Her posture stiffened slightly, the aura of warmth evaporating. She eyed him with the same cool hauteur she’d accused him of possessing. “I haven’t agreed to go to London.”
Hadrian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. He searched for the words that would appeal to her. “I very much hope that you will. Leo would enjoy visiting the Tower, the circus, even the ships at the docks. You can’t leave England without seeing the sights in its finest city.”
“And we’d reside with you,” she said, frowning.
“I’d be honored to have you both as my guests. Clayton House keeps a wonderful nursery stocked with toys and books for any guests. There’ll be an army of servants at your beck and call. The accommodations are first-rate, the chef is excellent, the library huge. You’ll not find better amenities anywhere.”
At that description, Natalie appeared even less thrilled. Much to his perplexity, her eyes sparked displeasure as she rose to her feet. “I gather there would be strings attached.”
He stood up as well. “Strings?”
“I won’t be your mistress, Hadrian. If I gave you a wrongful notion last night, that was a mistake. One kiss doesn’t mean I’m willing to be your kept woman.”
The source of her offended state cleared the fog from his brain. Having learned scorn for the nobility at her father’s knee, she had presumed Hadrian’s intentions to be dishonorable. If only she knew how wrong she was!
“Allow me to put your mind at rest,” he said. “If I harbored such a wicked design, I certainly wouldn’t have invited you to stay at Clayton House. My mother lives there.”
“Your mother? But … I thought you were estranged from her.”
“As a child, yes, when I was allowed to visit her only twice a year. Once I reached my majority, however, I took control of my properties, including the town
house. That has always been her primary residence, and I saw no reason to evict her. In truth, we rub along quite well together—so long as I can keep her from beggaring me with her shopping.”
“Oh.”
Natalie looked charmingly nonplussed by the revelation. The sight of her blushing confusion aroused tenderness in him as well as desire. He ached to draw her into the circle of his arms and kiss away all of her worries. But there would be time enough later to woo her, once he had her under his own roof.
“You’ll be adequately chaperoned,” he went on. “As well as having my mother underfoot, we’ll undoubtedly see quite a lot of my sister, who lives nearby. I didn’t ask you to come to London for any nefarious purpose.”
“You didn’t ask me, period. You issued a decree.”
He smiled ruefully. “Forgive me. Miss Fanshawe, will you and Leo kindly consent to stay as guests in my house? Mama will adore the brat, judging by the way she dotes on her one grandson, who is near Leo’s age.”
Natalie still looked uncertain. “Won’t the duchess object to my presence? She might agree with Lord Godwin that I’m a fortune hunter.”
“Hardly. My mother has never forgiven Godwin for taking me away from her all those years ago, so there’s nothing to fear in that quarter. Besides, if you’d wanted to run a scam, you’d have set your sights on me the moment we met. Becoming a duchess would reap you far greater rewards than scheming to place a little boy in an earl’s household.”
Natalie stared at him, then gave a trill of laughter, amusement adding a bloom to her lovely features. “Now, there would be a mésalliance! As if I would ever think that a lofty English duke would wed a common upstart like me!”
He smiled blandly, intrigued that she could have so little notion of her own allure. “I’d never presume you to think any such thing, Natalie. By the way, we are back to first names again, I hope. Formality would be awkward while living under one roof. If you and Leo will accept my hospitality, that is.”